


señorita

by prongsprobably



Series: falling from grace [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Just a Drop, Marichat, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, adrienette - Freeform, dont expect too much, just the teensy weeny bit of angst, look i wrote this at midnight, slight angst, swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-20 19:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19383130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongsprobably/pseuds/prongsprobably
Summary: "I know your secret, purrincess." It was the way the nickname rolled off his tongue. Usually, it sounded like he's teasing her, both with the title and the pun, but now it sounded like an endearment. Reverent. Seductive.Not words that should exactly go together, but this was Chat Noir and Chat Noir always made her feel a lot of things. // OR your typical Marichat balcony scene, because I suck.





	señorita

**Author's Note:**

> heLLOOOO I'M BACKKK! I forced this out of my hand and head because I REALLY wanted to write because señorita oozed with tension, yet my muse was not cooperating. Sorry if this seemed a bit... meh. 
> 
> Unbeta-d, unedited, and I never watched any of Season 3 episodes (yet) sO.

_you say we're just friends_

_but friends don't know the way you taste_

_**señorita //** shawn mendes ft. camila cabello_

* * *

 

Listen, finding out your crush also has a crush on you does wonders, okay?

It's not as if he meant to find out either, and it wasn't because he was stalking her or anything creepy like that. Really. It was because he was spending an afternoon at Chloé's, lips drawn to a permanent pout no matter how hard he tried to smile and chuckle and be responsive to the stories his childhood friend says.

Adrien didn't even want to be there. He has a rough idea where he'd rather be, of course, but recently even that seems like a bad idea, and his present alternatives are even less stellar.

So he'd rather be there.

At Chloé's.

Slumped over at the one-seater couch while the other blonde was lying on the bed, busy painting her nails.

"—so I said the color would've been a better fit if his hair wasn't so red he ended up looking like Christm—Adrikins are you listening?"

"Yes," he replied distractedly.

Chloe raised an eyebrow and huffed. "Then what was I saying?"

"You were mocking the costumes for the benefit play the school was throwing." There. That couldn't have been wrong, right?

"You got lucky. " Adrien almost laughed. Chloe merely stuck her nose in the air, something she rarely ever did to him in particular. "And mocking sounds so mean, I was _criticizing_."

"Not in that tone of voice you aren't," Adrien said cheerfully, though he wasn't really feeling it. "And when did you care about others thinking you're mean?"

"I don't." Chloe waved her hand airily. Then she rolled to her back, sitting up while blowing on her nails. "Now, tell me what's bothering you."

Adrien froze. He sat up properly, lips pulling into the usual wide smile he flashed and his eyes crinkling in a way he knew seemed genuine. "Nothing's wrong, Chlo, what are you talking about?"

"Alright, Mr. Sulky McSulky. You weren't totally brooding over my couch like a cat peed on your favorite Prada. Adrien," she rolled her eyes as she emphasized his name. "I'm your friend. Tell me what's wrong."

Adrien still stayed silent. There was no use pretending with Chloe. She wasn't usually so sensitive to people around her, but he figured she's probably so used to him that she can read him even if she didn't want to.

"Is it because Connard asked that Dupain-Cheng girl out?"

Adrien knew he wasn't transformed, but he couldn't help the growl build at the base of his throat. Connard, _fuck him_ , was a transfer student from the Americas and was assigned to stay temporarily in their class. Now, Adrien really doesn't have any problem with Americans. Maybe just one in particular.

Like, who even names their kid Connard?

"I'll take that as a yes," Chloe was saying, nodding her head as she took in his angry-cat form. "I don't think she even agreed, though. And I don't think the guy's permanently staying around, what are you so worried about?"

It wasn't that he's worried, it's because he's—

He's... well, he's...

"Adrien? Adrikins? Adrichou?"

"I'm jealous," he finally managed to say out loud. It was with a mix of wonder and disbelief, that he was feeling jealous over a crush. He thought the way he liked her was way more diluted than his dedicated adoration to Ladybug, but apparently it went deeper than he had accepted and realized, because he's actually feeling jealous. He was possessive.

Oh, dieu.

He knew it.

He knew his feelings only had one path, one trajectory, and that is deeper.

 _Putain_.

"Oh, Adrihoney," Chloé sighed, like she was pitying him, which, on Chloé standards, was pretty huge. "You don't have to be jealous of the American boy. You're Adrien Agreste! Marinette has liked you for four years now, I doubt some random new boy will be able to sway that. You got to give yourself more credit."

What.

What, what, what? "W-what was that?"

"I said you've got to give yourself more cr—"

"No, the thing you said before that."

"That Dupain-Cheng liked you for four years—"

The whine that left his mouth was practically inhumane. He felt his ears burn, considerably hot, and he stood, directly standing in front of Chloe and holding her hands, making her squeal as she fussed over her newly painted nails, but Adrien was adamant. "A-are you sure? T-that's... that's not just some rumor y-you heard?"

"Of course not, what do you think of me? Her eyes literally become heart-shaped when she sees you! How can you be so obliviou—Adrien! Hey! Where are you going?"

But Adrien was already out the hallway, running, an unmistakable huge grin on his lips as he turned back to his friends. "To Marinette!"

A rush of something warm and giddy coursed through his veins as he bolted to the staircase, Plagg whizzing past his shirt and looking at him wide-eyed. "You're going to your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend, Plagg, not _yet_."

"But we're going to her? But isn't your driver downstairs? If you show yourself he'll take you straight home—"

"Bright idea, Plagg, claws out!"

"That's not what I me—"

Whatever the kwami meant was lost in the ring as the familiar energy of Chat Noir engulfed him, and before he knew it he was out at the rooftops, laughing gleefuly, ectastic, bounding from building to building. He wanted to go to Marinette, wanted to hold her, wanted to say—

Wait. What was he gonna say?

Chat Noir almost tipped over his own baton when he stopped abruptly, face burning but not because of the rush of energy or the burning afternoon sun.

He can see Marinette's balcony now, and just the thought of her having a balcony—like a princess—put a small smile tugging at his lips.

And yet... And still.

What exactly was he gonna tell her? Now that the initial excitement and glee has watered down, his thoughts went haywire. Marinette deserved a romantic confession, as romantic as romance goes, or his name wasn't Adrien Agreste. She deserved a well-thought out, well-planned confession.

He better sit at home and view some boards at pinterest, that certainly helped with Ladybug last time—

"Chat! Chat Noir!"

The wind carrying that soft voice to his ears almost made him topple over again, but he was quick to regain his balance. He debated just running away, but that was his friend and his princess calling for him, and his ear already twitched and anticipation churning in his stomach so yes he had turned.

_Yes, Chat, you can do this. Just climb over her balcony gracefully, like a cat, like how you always do it. No reason to be tripping around your crush like a fool, you're not fourteen anymore._

But he was—is—a fool, maybe, _probably_ , because the sun was hitting her face at the right angle, and was creating all the right shadows, and the freckles across her nose looked like the galaxy he was so in love with, and her eyes were clear and blue and magnetic—

Then he landed on his chin.

Oh, bloody perfect.

* * *

 

"Chat!" Marinette squeaked in surprise, torn between amusement at the unexpected disgrace and helping him up. She ended up doing both, and when he was finally able to get up he kept on dusting off his pristine black suit, looking everywhere at her balcony and his own two feet but not at her. The reactions he was making was curious, if not peculiar, so she tilted her head in wonder. "Chat, are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Chat Noir stuttered, and then he gulped before he met her eyes. Something cleared on his face and a small smile quirked his lips. "Yes, princess, I'm absolutely rad. You can even say I'm feeling purrfect. You rang for me?"

Marinette rolled her eyes, though not with hostility, and sat down on the sun-bed. She used sitting down as an excuse to turn away, because she felt like her cheeks were reddening. Truthfully, she didn't know what came over her, calling Chat Noir like that. Mingling with him outside the suit only threatened the sanctity of their secret identities. But she saw him, and her mouth ran from her brain and now he's here.

Not that she can tell him that.

"I just thought I'd invite you over. You seemed pensive awhile ago," _and was in the danger of falling from your own baton. I saw that._

"Ah," Chat trailed off, leaning back on the railing of her balcony with the sunset rays making his hair shine in glory. "I was just thinking. How 'bout you?"

She noticed his acid green eyes glance at the sketchpad on the coffeetable. "Were you sketching?"

Marinette nodded, gesturing towards the plate of cookies (where his eyes automatically strayed) and Chat gratefully accepted. "I'm doing a favor for my friend. You know, the Ladyblogger."

"Yeah, I'm fa _mew_ liar," Chat nodded. Marinette opened her sketchbook, showing him a page. "It's a Ladybug and Chat Noir inspired outfit, see?"

"Wow," there was nothing sarcastic or forced in Chat's tone that Marinette blushed. "That's absolutely _meow_ velous, ma minette!"

" _What_?"

"What?" Chat blinked innocently. "I said 'that's marvelous, Marinette.'"

Marinette narrowed her eyes, pretending she didn't see that secretive smile playing on his lips as he bit on a cookie. "Anyway, can you do something for me, Chat?"

"Anything, purrincess."

"Can I touch you?"

 _That_ he wasn't expecting. He choked on the cookie bits that Marinette handed him a glass of water smugly.  _Serves you right, you mangy cat._

"S-say what, princess?"

"I wanted to study your suit," Marinette explained. "I want to be accurate with my drawing for Alya. But... if you're not comfortable that's fine too."

"Oh no, no," Chat laid out his arms, beckoning her, flashing a half-grin that Marinette was certain was a smirk. She didn't know why that kind of smile in that kind of angle was affecting her either. "Go ahead and touch me, _purr_ incess."

How he can easily bounce from flustered to flirty was forever going to be a mystery to her. Determined to not let her blush get the best of her, she stood from the sunlounger and faced Chat Noir, quirking a smile at him before getting to business.

That is, skimming her hand all over the ridges of his ~~body~~ suit. Her brain, ever the patronizer of multi-tasking, tore apart the fashion-side of his suit from the material to the design to the structure, while the other side, the one she won't even willingly admit out loud, the one _very_ attracted to the very superhero she was touching, was setting everything on fire.

She made sure not to touch him anywhere inappropriate though (what, she's thirsty, not rude) and then proceeded to note everything she found on her sketchpad.

If she looked at Chat Noir, she would've seen the conflicted expression on his face, the way he only started breathing again when her touch left him, and how his eyes never left her face. Marinette was busy now, preoccupied with her design, and cats weren't keen to losing the attention they want.

"I know your secret, _purr_ incess." It was the way the nickname rolled off his tongue. Usually, it sounded like he's teasing her, both with the title and the pun, but now it sounded like an endearment. Reverent. Seductive.

Not words that should exactly go together, but this was Chat Noir and Chat Noir always made her feel a lot of things.

What was he talking about again? "W-what?" 

Chat Noir smirked, the unholy man, and stood directly in front so he was towering over her. "Your secret."

(Alarm bells. Loud red alarm bells, not golden ones that doubles as a zipper and she wants to tug down to see if it's funct—fuck, not  _now_ Marinette!) 

"Erm... What secret, Chat Noir?"

He rested his gaze on her. He looked peaceful, happy,  _giddy_ even, that Marinette felt her stomach drop. Her identity was compromised. She's dead. Tikki will be taken away from her, Master Fu will have her head, somebody else will replace her—

"—ou like is."

Marinette felt a pinch at her hip. Probably Tikki. Her eyes refocused and she saw Chat Noir still looking at her with that still too-intense gaze. Help her throat. "W-what?"

"I know who the boy you like is," Chat smiled, as if he was happy for her. All the alarm bells in Marinette's head calmed down, and she snorted as she turned to her drawing again. "Everyone except him does, Chat Noir."

"Really? Everyone except him? How come you never confessed?"

"Not for the lack of trying."

"What?"

"It's a long story. Even lending you my diary won't be enough. There's, like, three volumes about my attempted confessions alone," Marinette noticed that she was using her pencil too hard and lightened her strokes. "Sometimes I feel like it's truly not meant to be, you know? Like it's the universe's way of telling me to stop."

"Well, you can't give up, princess," Chat Noir said quietly. "He's blind if he can't see how wonderfully amazing you are."

"Not blind," Marinette shook her head with a grin. "Oblivious, maybe. There's just as many times a girl can hear 'just a friend', Chat."

"Oh princess," he sighed, surprisingly pulling her up and the encasing her hands in his. "I meant what I said. He is blind, and you deserve so much more. It's not your fault if you want to let go. That just means it's now his turn to chase after you."

He put her knuckles just a hairbreadth's away from his lips, that she can feel them brushing her skin as he spoke. "Wait a bit, Marinette. The world is ready to fall under your feet."

Marinette blinked slowly, in a haze. All she can see was lips on her knuckles and green green eyes and a flash of black. 

She couldn't breathe.

There was something in his eyes. Something familiar. Something tugging at her own heart. But Chat Noir is already gone.

(Meters away, bounding away, was Chat Noir with a determined expression, hell-bent on getting home and getting that plan started.)

( _God,_ he wanted to kiss her.)

**Author's Note:**

> watch señorita by shawn mendes & camila cabello and agree with me that it needs an adrinette/marichat au
> 
> please do comment i love those


End file.
